


Of Hot Guys and Impromptu Makeout Sessions

by bladeofsolsthiem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, M/M, Meet-Cute, college party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5527838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladeofsolsthiem/pseuds/bladeofsolsthiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Make out with me.” Hot guy said urgently, meeting Stiles’ eyes in a desperate gaze.</p>
<p>Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Stiles just said “Okay!” and cast his arms around hot guy’s amazingly broad shoulders, throwing himself into the kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Hot Guys and Impromptu Makeout Sessions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdy_farm_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to everyone, but especially to Beth, my Secret Santa ;) I hope everyone's having a wonderful holiday!

Stiles was minding his own business. Really. I mean, he might have been eavesdropping on Lydia’s conversation with Jackson a little, but that was just because he happened to be standing near them and this party was really boring. (Just to him, mind you, everyone else seemed to be having a good time.) Stiles had already used up his quota of shameless--fucking amazing, thank you Scott-- dancing, and he needed to consume more alcohol before he was ready to go dance again. By himself. Because for some reason everyone always made a lot of space for him when he hit the dance floor. Probably because he was so awesome they needed to stand back to be able to truly appreciate the awesomeness. Yeah. That was it.

Anyway, Stiles was standing there, straining to hear the latest juicy tidbit in the saga that was Lydia and Jackson’s doomed relationship (He’d been crushing on her for six years, okay? He’d worked hard to be able to go to the same college as her, so that when he finally grew into his amazing looks he’d be right there for her to see how hot he was. A flawless plan, until she’d met Jackson McJackass.), when suddenly there was a body in his personal space and he was reeling backwards. Strong hands caught his upper arms, and he looked up into the face of--holy shit-- the single hottest guy he had ever seen. Seriously, he could cut himself on that jawline. And the slight stubble this guy had going on was doing things to him. He’d completely lost track of Lydia and Jackson’s conversation, but he didn’t even care--that’s how hot this guy was.

“Make out with me.” Hot guy said urgently, meeting Stiles’ eyes in a desperate gaze.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Stiles just said “Okay!” and cast his arms around hot guy’s amazingly broad shoulders, throwing himself into the kiss. It kinda hurt, and he certainly felt hot guy flinch back a bit. Oops. The guy didn’t pull away though, which Stiles decided to count as a win. He just angled his head so that his nose wasn’t crashing into Stiles’ anymore and woah--that was much better. Stiles relaxed a bit, and the guy pulled back, just to dip back in and kiss him once more, his lips slightly parted. Stiles couldn’t help the small groan he let out at that, parting his lips as well, and then somehow their tongues were touching, stroking each other in what was officially the hottest kiss of Stiles’ life. With the hottest guy. Holy shit, how did he get here again? Vodka, you are my new best friend, Stiles swore to himself as he melted in this guy’s arms. 

After a few minutes of shameless making out (which had graduated to shameless grinding as the guy pressed Stiles against a wall), hot guy pulled away. Stiles couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth-- “No wait, come back! Why are you going away?” 

Hot guy smirked, and damn it if that didn’t make Stiles’ dick jump in his jeans. “Thanks.” Hot guy murmured, and then suddenly looked a lot less self satisfied and more… sheepish. “My ex was passing by and I…”

Stiles felt his heart drop and his face flush. He dropped his hands from where they were still clutching the guy’s biceps. “Of course, no I totally understand.” He swallowed, and tried to muster up a smug grin. He was pretty sure it didn’t work out for him, but he tried. “I mean, I got to make out with an incredibly hot guy, so I’m not complaining.”

“No wait-- I---” Hot guy ran a hand over his face, making a small frustrated sound. “I suck at this kind of thing.” He took a breath, seeming to try to pull himself together, but Stiles couldn’t resist an opening like that, especially with his already awful brain to mouth filter completely decimated by the alcohol in his system.

“You suck, huh?” 

The guy flushed again, and dammit if that wasn’t the most adorable thing Stiles had ever seen. 

“I didn’t mean--” The guy sighed, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Nevermind. Thanks again.” He started to turn. Damnit, that was not what Stiles had been going for at all.

“Shit, I’m an asshole, sorry.” Stiles stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What were you going to say?” He tried to look earnest, but not too desperate. He probably failed miserably on the second count.

The guy sighed and glanced down, then over to where a brunette was talking with a guy that seemed to be getting a little too friendly. When he finally looked Stiles again, he said, “Well, I was going to tell you my name and ask if you wanted to exchange numbers, but…”

“S-seriously?” Stiles stammered, his eyebrows raising quickly. “Yeah, I’d love that. I mean, seriously? Yeah.” He was nodding too much. He could feel it, in a sort of strange, delayed way. That would be the vodka.

The guy smirked again. Stiles liked that expression a lot better than the frustrated look he’d gotten after Stiles had made the joke. “I’m Derek.” He said, and Stiles repeated it back, still a little awed. 

“Derek.” He was staring, and he felt like there was something he was supposed to say here, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. He couldn’t seem to pull himself out of Hot G--Derek’s eyes.

“Annnnd, you are?” Derek finally prompted him.

“Oh! Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. Sorry, you just have really pretty eyes.” Shit, did he actually just say that?

Derek smirked again, and damn that was hot. “Nice to meet you, Stiles.” At some point he had pulled out his phone. That’s funny, Stiles totally hadn’t seen him do that. He might have been busy staring at Derek’s lips, which were slightly red from their makeout session. Damn, Stiles did that. “What’s your number?” Derek asked, pulling him out of his reverie.

Stiles gave it to him, and a bit later his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text. 

“And now you have my number.” Derek motioned to the brunette, who looked like she was about to punch the guy who had been hitting on her earlier. “I have to go rescue my sister over there, but I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Yeah!” Stiles stammered. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“Alright.” Derek pecked Stiles on the lips, and Stiles found himself leaning into it when Derek pulled away.

Stiles fist pumped. Fuck yeah. Party success.


End file.
